So I am experiencing some severe writer's block. Hope you like. I own nothing. Everything belongs to J.k Rowling. I'm not sure if I will continue this story on, but if you like it then I will. Enjoy!

"Boy! You better get down here right now!" Vernon Dursley was a very big man. He was often thought of as a talking pig, however, no one said that to his face. Vernon, on the outside, was a family man. He had a loving wife and kind son. They had a perfect yard, always clean house, and their cars were perfectly clean at all times.

Everything seemed perfectly normal in this family. That is if you hadn't met the fourth person in that household. People thought the boy was disturbed, probably because Vernon said he was. The boy, however, was not mad nor disturbed. He was in fact just different. He had jet black unruly hair, bright emerald green eyes, and glasses that barely fit his slim gaunt face. The boy actually was not really a boy though, he was almost 15, but looked like he could be twelve. He was too thin for his age and had bruises in various areas. Not to mention the lightning-shaped scar that was carved over his right eyebrow. This teenagers name is Harry James Potter.

Harry was resting in his room when he heard his uncle call him and since he didn't want any more trouble he ran down the stairs into the kitchen to see his uncle. Besides it was the start of the summer, he actually wanted to see his friends by the end of it. However, before he got a chance to run down the stairs, his uncle was standing right in front of him in his doorway.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon?" the teenager asked looking a bit confused.

"Your bloody owl has come back with a letter for you," Harry wasn't allowed to open his mail alone, not this year at least. The Dursleys were still upset that Harry had blown up his Aunt Marge two summer before. Then again, they were also mad that he even existed, to begin with, and thought he deserved punishment, so when he got back they took matters into their own hands. Mainly, Vernon.

Harry took the letter from Hedwig's leg and read it quietly to himself. It was from Ron. The letter had said:

Hey Harry!

I hope you are doing well this summer. Mum has been on my tail all summer, got grounded when I got back. She was not happy to hear that Scabbers was Pettigrew, or that he got away. Well anyway, you're coming this summer right? If you are I wanted to let my dad know, he got tickets for the Quidditch World Cup and he invited you along! Isn't that great! Well, you should respond soon. I have already asked 'Mione and she said she is going. Anyways, how are your relatives? Not too much trouble? If so the twins and I can come and rescue you again! Bloody hell that would be fun! Hope to hear from you soon.

~Ron

Harry was snapped back into his thoughts by his uncle's glare. "Well, which little freak friend of yours sent that to you?" he inquired with a scowl on his face.

"It was my friend Ron, and he is not a freak," Harry said the last part under his breath. Hoping that his uncle didn't hear him, but some parts of him did. He was called a freak from the moment he could understand what it meant, he didn't want his friends to be called the same.

"They are too freaks and so are you. Going to that freak school and doing freakish things. You know you are a freak. That's why your parents went and got themselves killed," Vernon sneered

"That's a lie! My parents died to save my life!" Harry had raised his voice at his uncle. Man was that a mistake. Before he got to say anything else Harry was pushed into the wall behind him. Vernon had his hand over Harry's throat cutting off all means of air.

"They didn't die for you, they just couldn't stand to live with a freak." at the last word Vernon threw Harry across his like a ragdoll. Unfortunately, he was thrown his dresser. It had cut open the back of his head, he was already bleeding from the small wound. While he was still dazed, Vernon came up behind him and kicked his back, hard enough to at least bruise a rib. Then Vernon picked Harry back up by the hair and dragged him back up to his feet. Punch, slap, kick. Punch, slap, kick, push. Punch slap kick. That cycle repeated for about twenty minutes. Vernon then grabbed Harry by right his arm and twisted it in an unnatural position. The cracking of bones. That was the only sound you could hear in that house.

Harry had barely any time to scream, he was more of gasping with shock. He never thought his uncle would go to breaking his bones to punish him. Vernon then grabbed Harry by the arm and tried to make him walk down the stairs. Before Harry could even understand what was going on his foot slipped off of the platform on the stairs and he fell down. All the way to the landing. Barely conscious, he could still hear Vernon whisper in his ear "You deserved to be punished," then he passed out.

When he woke up it was to the sound of beeping. Not an erratic beeping like a fire alarm, but a steady one. He opened his eyes to take in his surroundings. The smell was cold and clean while it was white everywhere. He was in a room with one sliding door in front of him. He realized some more that he had a tube up his nose, not only that but a cast over his entire right arm. 'This should be interesting to explain' he thought to himself. Just then a bunch of people in white lab coats came into the room.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Edwards," an older man with a fading hairline approached him. The man had dull blue eyes, they seemed weary and tired but nevertheless relentless. He had a kind small and a warm voice. "Do you remember how you got here?" he asked

Harry shook his head, he didn't remember at all how he got their. Dr. Edwards pursed his lips. "Do you remember who did this to you?" Harry visibly tensed as everything that had happened came back into his memories. He slowly nodded. "Do you want to tell us his or hers name? We can get you help if you need it," Dr. Edwards said slowly. Harry furiously shook his head in response. Who would've known what would've happened if he told someone about his uncle. "Do you have someone you want us to contact?"

Harry thought for a moment. Who, that he knows, has a phone or lives in muggle England? Only one person came to mind. Harry slowly nodded his head yes. "Can I have a pen and p-paper?" he rasped, his voice was raw after not having to talk for so long. Dr. Edwards nodded his head and a nurse ran off to get him the things he asked for. Harry was in for a long recovery it seemed.

So I hope you like this! Please review and give feedback! Love you all!

~the ocean